“This office is off-limits to civilians. You can’t just linger inside if you have no official business.”
“If I can’t stay inside, I’ll just wait out here.”
“Aren’t you going to the Wu Estate?”
“I think Wu Ying needs time alone right now rather than seeing me.”
“…Oh.”
And so, Jing Pei accompanied him to the Tribunal Division. Having completed numerous missions here in the past to earn academic credits, she knew the layout and security rules inside out. Without waiting for anyone to instruct her, she settled quietly into a chair within the designated visitor area. Whenever Qiu Fa walked out, her eyes followed his every move.
Qiu Fa had originally resolved to give her the cold shoulder. He wanted her to understand that he had a temper during work hours and couldn’t be trifled with so easily.
Yet shortly after stepping into his office, the thought of her sitting outside made him restless. He couldn’t focus. In his mind’s eye, she seemed almost pitiful—watching him with wide, expectant eyes whenever he emerged, looking like a harmless, shivering stray locked out in the cold.
By the time he caught himself, he had already ordered milk tea and a mountain of snacks for her.
Before long, a cup of milk tea and a huge bag of treats sat on Jing Pei’s table—far more than she could ever finish alone.
“Xiao Jin, what are you doing here?” Mei Yanlan asked with a grin as she strolled past. The moment news of Master Wu broke, she knew the pair’s date was ruined.
“Waiting to see if Director Qiu needs any help,” Jing Pei replied. “Want some snacks?”
“Then why don’t you help me out instead?” Mei Yanlan reached into the bag, unwrapping a lollipop.
“My services are reserved exclusively for Director Qiu today.”
Mei Yanlan flashed a knowing smirk. “Ah, master-and-servant roleplay.”
Jing Pei: “…” It hadn’t reached that point yet—though it sounded like a fun idea to try later.
“Mei Yanlan,” Qiu Fa’s stern voice called out from inside his office.
Mei Yanlan shut her mouth instantly, popping the lollipop into her mouth, sending Jing Pei a playful wink before stepping inside.
The death of Master Wu and the reveal of Jiang Qing’s true identity forced major changes in government operations. Every move had a wide impact, so the Tribunal Division had to rethink its strategy. Qiu Fa was swamped with work. Interrogating Jiang Yu was only a small task compared with the endless online meetings with regional department heads, the planning of nationwide arrest operations, and the high-level briefings with the central government.
None of these high-level meetings concerned Jing Pei. Sitting idle outside grew dull after a while, so she wandered around the accessible areas of the building. She quickly noticed how aged the facility was—several faucets produced no water, and broken equipment sat neglected in corners.
The staff at the Tribunal Division worked at a punishing pace. When something broke, they simply made do—using cold water when the heater failed, too overwhelmed with critical duties to care about minor comforts. They led rugged lives and had endured far worse hardships, so faulty plumbing barely registered on their radar.
Jing Pei asked a guard for a toolbox. Picking up a screwdriver, she went to work repairing whatever she could fix on the spot, noting down what needed replacement later.
Soon enough, overworked officers began poking their heads out of offices, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Wait, what’s going on?”
“How does she know how to fix electrical fixtures?”
“Knowing how to fix things makes sense—she wasn’t raised in luxury at the Long Estate. The real question is: why is she fixing our stuff?”
“Who hired such a crazy expensive repair technician??”
The Head of a Great Atavist Family was doing handyman work for the Tribunal Division. No one would believe it if they told them.
When Qiu Fa finally emerged from his meetings, the corridors were buzzing with hushed chatter. Following the rumors, he found Jing Pei standing atop a stepladder, repairing an overhead light.
A silver screw rested between her lips. She had shed her coat, revealing a soft pink knit sweater beneath, while a gemstone bracelet dangled against her forearm. Though she looked like a pampered heiress whose hands had never touched manual labor, her clothes and skin were now dusted with grey grime—like a white swan alighting on dusty ground.
Qiu Fa froze, a subtle tremor in his chest. “What are you doing?”
Why would the Head of a Great Atavist Family—an Information Broker commanding vast influence behind the scenes—waste her precious time doing handyman chores here? Was it because of him? Did that mean he wasn’t as insignificant in her heart as he had feared?
“Oh, you’re finished with your meeting?” Jing Pei looked down from the ladder, her face instantly lighting up with a warm smile.
“Maintenance staff handle repairs like these.”
“By the time you guys remember to call maintenance, who knows how long it’ll take?”
“Your clothes are dirty. Come down.”
“It’s just a little dust,” she said, brushing it off. “I haven’t fixed anything in a while, so I almost forgot how. It was good practice.”
Tightening the final screw into place, she rested a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “When I was taking missions at the Tribunal Division before, why didn’t I notice how run-down everything was? I probably saw it, but I didn’t care enough to remember. So why did I notice it this time and actually care? It really must be love!”
She formed a playful hand-heart toward him. “Love you~”
Qiu Fa stared at the streak of grease smudged across her jaw, his lips curving into a subtle smile. “Come down.”
“All right, catch me.”
Qiu Fa caught her easily as she leapt, setting her down gently onto a clean desk nearby. Grabbing a pack of wet wipes and sanitizer, he wiped the dirt from her face and hands. “Look at you, covered in dust.”
“And who did I do it for? Come on, say ‘Thank you, Little Dragon Hero.'”
A soft chuckle escaped Qiu Fa before he could stop it.
Seeing his smile, Jing Pei brightened instantly, her eyes shining with warmth. “You smiled! Are you happy now?”
Qiu Fa wiped the expression from his face immediately, resuming his stoic front. “You imagined it.”
Before Jing Pei could tease him further, a knock sounded on the door, followed by An Yan’s voice. “Director, are you in there? The briefing is about to start.”
“Understood,” Qiu Fa called back. Looking at Jing Pei, a wave of guilt surfaced once more.
“Go do your work,” Jing Pei said, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering close to his ear. “I’ll coax you properly tonight.”
Her soft warmth pressed against him, her sweet breath brushing past his earlobe, sending a sharp tension through his body. His ears flushed crimson instantly, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Coax him tonight? How was she going to coax him?
As Qiu Fa stepped out of the breakroom, An Yan darted suspicious glances between the room and Qiu Fa’s bright red ears. It can’t be what I think it is, right?!
Then, Qiu Fa cleared his throat and asked quietly, “When… when you’re upset with your wife about something, how does she coax you?”
An Yan blinked in confusion and said, “Who am I to deserve my wife coaxing me?”
Qiu Fa: “…”
Realizing what he had just said—and noticing Qiu Fa’s gaze shift from shock to profound pity—An Yan’s face flushed hot. “Wait, no! That’s not what I meant! She definitely coaxes me! My wife is great at making things up to me!”
“How does she do it?” Qiu Fa asked, wanting to prepare himself mentally so he wouldn’t appear completely clueless later.
“Well… that kind of married couple stuff, how can I tell you details? You’ll have to figure it out yourself!”
Qiu Fa: “…”
An Yan’s secretive response only fueled Qiu Fa’s restless imagination, leaving his heart fluttering with nervous anticipation for the evening.
Unable to contain his curiosity, An Yan leaned closer. “Director, what is Xiao Jin actually here for?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Of course I’m curious! One of you looks like he brought his young girlfriend to work, and the other looks like she’s keeping her boyfriend company while he works!”
Like a cat spotting something fascinating, Qiu Fa’s eyes widened, his ears perking up as he turned his gaze sharp upon An Yan.
An Yan stared back. Seeing Qiu Fa’s reaction—no frowning, no reprimand, no denying the claim—An Yan’s mind practically exploded.
Holy crap! Is my ship actually real?!!!
Mr. Fei and the others waited outside the hidden facility. By the time the sun climbed high into the sky and scorched the earth, leaving them dizzy and ravenous, the heavy doors finally ground open.
No one knew what had transpired inside. They only saw Jiang Qing emerge covered in blood, one arm dislocated at the shoulder. His eyes and smile had reverted to the cold, lethal expression they remembered from before he volunteered to infiltrate the Wu family.
Wild, ruthless, bloodthirsty—like a specter returned from hell.
The organizational leaders shuddered and lowering their heads in deep deference.
Mr. Fei stepped forward, sensing that the Young Heir had vented his rage and was ready to address business. “So, what is your next move? Joint operations between Hualan and international governments are already underway. While our floating headquarters remains difficult to locate, our material procurement and workforce remain vulnerable on the surface. We must disrupt their united front to gain enough time to manufacture more membrane-breaking machines.”
It was a monumental challenge. What kind of event could possibly derail a global coalition of governments?
“Isn’t that simple?” Jiang Qing let out a cold laugh.
Simple?
The leaders stared at him with eager anticipation.
“Compile a complete list of all our sleeper agents embedded in the government, the Atavist families, and everywhere else,” Jiang Qing commanded. “I have a use for them.”
Despite repeated purges by the authorities over the centuries, the organization’s roots ran deep, boasting countless devoted followers. Their moles were planted in key positions across the government and elite clans—insidious operatives that could not be easily discovered or rooted out.
Mr. Fei pondered for a moment before nodding in agreement. With their grand vision reaching its final phase, there was no better time to activate these assets.
When Jiang Qing received the master list and scanned down the names, his expression froze momentarily on one specific entry. A cruel, icy smile spread across his lips.
Now this will be fun.
Long Jin… you pretend to care for no one, claiming anyone can be sacrificed for the greater good. But does that include yourself?
At noon, Jing Pei accompanied Qiu Fa to the Tribunal Division’s cafeteria for lunch. It was her first time eating here, and she was immediately stunned by the size of the serving bowls. Holding one up beside her face, she found the stainless-steel basin was broader than her head, its polished surface reflecting her wide, feline eyes.
“Use this instead.” Qiu Fa handed her a pink, standard-sized bento box—one he had purchased alongside her food delivery earlier and thoroughly washed.
“Oh.” Jing Pei set the massive metal tub aside and accepted the bento box. Eating out of a bucket in front of the man she liked was a firm no.
At a nearby table, An Yan watched them with a quiet snort. “Unbelievable. Back when he was brought on blind dates here, he couldn’t have cared less how horrified the poor girls looked at these metal tubs.”
He began shoveling food into his mouth, surrounded by colleagues who were devouring their meals with equal ferocity.
“Why is Long Jin staying at our office all day, anyway?”
“Is it because of what happened to Master Wu?”
“Ah… Master Wu…”
“Alright, alright, eat up! We still have a ton of work this afternoon.” Seeing the mood turn solemn, An Yan quickly changed the subject, and the table returned to their voracious eating.
Qiu Fa murmured, “Make do with this for today.”
“The food is actually pretty good,” Jing Pei replied truthfully. While staff could tolerate rough living conditions, bad food was where anyone drew the line. So despite the utilitarian utensils, the cafeteria offered a lavish, delicious spread of dishes.
Still, it was a far cry from the refined, meticulously prepared cuisine served in Great Atavist Family estates. Watching Jing Pei eat obediently without picking at her food, a small smile touched Qiu Fa’s lips. Yet his mind drifted—she knew how to repair machinery and fix plumbing, ate without complaint, and possessed all the survival skills of someone who had relied solely on herself for years. How much hardship had she endured before returning to the Long family?
His smile faded. Wanting her to eat well, he was about to tell her to eat more meat, only to realize her bowl was already piled high with meat.
“Eat some vegetables,” he offered instead.
“That’s grass. I don’t want it.”
Qiu Fa: “…”
After lunch, without taking any rest, Qiu Fa threw himself back into work.
Jing Pei visited a nearby hardware store to pick up spare lightbulbs, pipes, and batteries. Returning to the main lobby, she spotted Wu Ying waiting to take Jiang Yu home.
Wu Ying stood in the center of the hall, her expression blank. The surrounding staff seemed unsure how to offer condolences, leaving a heavy, awkward silence in the air.
“Sister Ying,” Jing Pei paused before greeting her softly.
Wu Ying turned to look at her. Her gaze was proud, piercing, and eerily reminiscent of her late father.
Jing Pei came to a stop.
Wu Ying walked up to her, her face unreadable. “Xiao Jin. I heard you came to our dock this morning. Were you coming to see me? Why didn’t you come inside?”
“Because I thought you might want time alone.”
“In times of grief like this, I want my friends around me. I’m proud and short-tempered, so I have very few true friends. You are one of the rare few I’ve considered an equal—someone I genuinely respect. Having you by my side would help me through this.”
“Should I come over to accompany you tonight, then?”
“Before that, Xiao Jin,” Wu Ying leaned in, whispering directly into her ear, “tell me… are you the Information Broker?”
As she spoke, she turned her head slightly, her sharp eyes staring intently into Jing Pei’s at close range, as if trying to pierce through her skin to read her very soul.
